


The Switch and the Spur

by jehanjetaime



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Cowboy AU, Multi, Trans Male Lavellan - Freeform, Wild West AU, mixture of wild west/fantasy tropes, unrealistic horseback riding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-12
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-03-30 13:52:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13952970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jehanjetaime/pseuds/jehanjetaime
Summary: When Eldan Lavellan stumbled into leadership as the sheriff of a dusty little town in the middle of the Western Approach, he never expected the sort of adventures he would find himself on. A Dalish elf, sheriff? Not around these parts. Yet there he was, with a star and eye pin attached to his vest and a responsibility to the good people of Haven.This was originally titled 'The Wild West of Thedas' but has been renamed!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The first two chapters of this will probably be a little short, but the length will increase as the story goes on.

The dust of the Western Approach was thick, choking, and relentless, but many people called it home. Little towns were dotted throughout the area, left behind from mining settlements or the ever-expanding railroads. Some of them remained empty. Others, however, flourished. Haven – one of many named the same, oases in the form of a spattering of buildings – was one such town, full to bursting with lively folk who had travel west from the real cities and towns in search of a freer life.

Sheriff Eldan Lavellan was one of them. Orphaned at a young age within his tribe, then kidnapped by a group of shem when his tribe’s campsite had been burnt down, Eldan had never felt truly at home. In Haven, he did. Which was why he gave his all to his new position: sheriff of Haven. He had only been sheriff for a couple months after a band of outlaws had ransacked the town. They had swept in during the dead of night, burned the Chantry to the ground, killed their Revered Mother, and hung their previous sheriff from the sturdiest tree for miles. Eldan had lucked into saving them, finding a bomb that had been planted as he was trying to lure some frightened children out of a cellar.

His left arm was still bandaged from when he had taken that bomb and thrown it into the quarry. The jostling had set it off just close enough that the eerie green flames from it completely engulfed Eldan’s arm, leaving him injured but still able to work and move.  The vote to install him as the new sheriff had been unanimous, decided on before he even woke up. As a Dalish elf, that had been a surprise to him, and he nearly backed down. However, Deputy Pentaghast did not want the position, and there was no one else to take the job. He couldn't abandon these people in their time of need.

The golden star pinned to his vest glinted in the mid-morning sun. An eye stared out from the middle of it, watching over the entire town as Eldan did his morning rounds. His hair felt heavy against his back, the thick red braid almost past his shoulder blades. He had been contemplating making a visit to Pavus, but when he heard one of the red-headed saloon girls talking about the way the bartender had complimented  _ her _ hair…well. Eldan thought that he could wait a couple more weeks for a haircut.

In fact, that saloon was the next stop on his rounds. It was always a busy – a hub of information, a place to overhear plans, and the one stop shop to hire out a band of slingers and mercenaries. The Chargers had been invaluable to Eldan so far, just as they had been to the previous sheriff. Also, they were run by the most handsome bartender/saloon owner/blade for hire that Eldan had ever seen.

The Iron Bull had a different name, once. After so long running his saloon – The Iron Bull - however, his name and the saloon’s name became one in the same. It was only recently, in fact, that he had changed the name of the saloon. A newly painted sign reading “The Gilded Horn,” swung above Eldan’s head as he opened the door. ‘Horn’ was the perfect name, because when Eldan walked into the building all he could see _was_ horns – massive ones on either side of the Iron Bull’s head. He was one of the few Qunari business owners that Eldan had ever even heard of, much less seen, and he was impressive in every way. Built like a vault, scarred up, with a patch over one eye and a dangerous gleam in the other, the Iron Bull was just the sort of person needed to rough it out in this unforgiving landscape.

And that smile when he spotted Eldan? It was worth all of the gold in the distant hills. Maryden was at her piano, playing a gentle tune underneath the sounds of the Chargers playing card games and the local laborers having a late breakfast or an early lunch. Krem (who was practically Eldan’s brother at this point, the person he was closest to in all of Haven) waved to him from across the room, and Eldan returned the gesture. His eyes were only for Bull, however, and Eldan made his way over to the bar. There was a stool there with a sheriff’s badge attached to it. That had been meant for the previous sheriff, but Eldan slipped into it anyways. As with everything, it had become his when he accepted that badge. “How’s business today?”

“Good as ever, boss,” Bull said, passing him a glass of what everyone thought was moonshine but was only apple juice. Bull even kept it in a moonshine bottle. Eldan just didn’t like to drink, but it seemed to be expected of him, and he would forever be grateful to Bull for helping him keep it a secret. “Nothing to report, unless you want to hear about another drunk thrown out on his ass at last call.”

Eldan laughed, ducking his head. “Nothing to report means an easy day for me.”

“Not a boring one?” With no one else at the bar, the Iron Bull leaned against it, those tight arms folded just out of Eldan’s touch. “After what you use to do, you can’t expect me to think you don’t get a little bored.”

Well…that could be true. Eldan had been a bounty hunter before, and was only in his home village by pure chance the night everything changed. He was small, a little chubby, an elf, freckled and green eyed – that is to say, not at all the sort of person who looked as if he would be a bounty hunter. That worked out in his favor more often than not. “It’s a much different job, but with this one I at least know my job is there.”

“One thing to be said for guaranteed income, huh?” Bull slapped the bar affectionately. “If you ever get bored, though, look me up. I can find you some trouble.”

“No doubt you can, chief,” came another voice as an arm slid around Eldan’s shoulders. He nudged Krem with his elbow. One moment of weakness, one quiet admission that maybe Eldan liked the Iron Bull more than he let on, and Krem had been trying to set them up for weeks.

“You need something, Krem puff?”

Krem rolled his eyes. “Just checkin’ on El! You know I saw him skulking around town last night? He’s wandering around town at all hours of the night, all by himself. Sneaking through the dark like some unsavory character.”

Eldan pushed him off. “I wasn’t SKULKING, thank you very much, I was making rounds. It’s something that I have to do for my job? To keep the town safe?”

“Seems like that’s all you ever do,” Bull said, and Eldan swore there was a hint of concern in his gaze.

“Someone has to keep the rowdiness down on this street. I  _ am  _ sheriff, after all.”

“Whatever you say.” Krem nudged him again. “Meeting us for dinner here tonight?”

“As long as nothing comes up, I’ll be here.” Eldan drained his glass, then pushed it back across the bar. “I better get, though.”

It wasn’t far to his next destination, however – just across the street. This street was their only real street, but that was beside the point. All of the businesses were huddled together here – general store, saloon, blacksmith, leather shop, barber – with the most of the houses out a little further. Some people did live above their shops, such as the owner of the general store. When one had something worth stealing, it was often kept close to the heart, and the general store had quite a lot that someone would want to take. Barrels of candy and grain, food, cloth, paper goods, and much more stocked the shelves, filling it to the brim with things anyone would find valuable. To Eldan, however, the most valuable part of the rather grimly named Hanged Man was the owner.

That owner raised a hand when Eldan walked in. “Varric,” he called, a smile on his face. “It’s good to see you up and about.”

Varric had his feet up on the counter, but swung them down as Eldan approached. “Ah, sheriff - what can I do for you today?”

“Nothing, if we’re lucky. I’m just curious so see if you’ve heard anything.” Eldan leaned against the counter. He could see Varric’s trustworthy crossbow behind him. No one with any smarts would try to rob him when he had Bianca around - which he did all of the time.

“Well, you know what they say - no news is good news. Of course, the proverbial ‘they’ say quite a lot of things that don’t necessarily hold true in life.” He chuckled. “As for now, I don’t have anything for you, though.”

“Not even an update on your book?” In such a small, quiet town, entertainment was hard to come by. Varric’s books were a hit, with those who couldn’t read gathering around to hear others read aloud. If Varric was in a good mood, sometimes he himself would read a couple chapters aloud.

“Even you have to wait for that.”

Eldan nodded and chatted for a few more minutes before making his way out of the store. He held the door open for a woman, tipping his hat to her as he passed. Everyone laughed at him for cutting holes on either side of a brand new hat, but Eldan’s ears were the biggest he had ever seen and did not fit in anything with a standard brim. 

He continued on his way down the dirt path, stopping to talk here and there with the townspeople. Anything to make his walk back to the boring sheriff’s office longer. There weren’t even any prisoners in the couple cells around his desk. It was on that desk that Eldan set his hat when he had no choice but to return to the office. He was about to sink into the chair when he noticed a scroll in the basket under his mail slot. Eldan snagged it before sitting down.

_ “Sheriff Lavellan, _

_ Governor Montilyet will be traveling through the area of your jurisdiction within the day, heading east towards her final destination of Val Royeaux. If you could take some time out of your day to meet her party and escort them to the safety of the next town, I would be much obliged. I will be traveling with them but in this day and age one can always use more back up. _

_ Commander Cullen Rutherford” _

Eldan was honestly grateful for the task. He had heard that a few bandit groups were making up numbers along the east, but hadn’t been given any cause to go out there and scout. This would be a good chance to do that, as well as forge a relationship with Governor Montilyet. Eldan had never met her but knew that she had brought her family up from ruin and was very good at what she did. He took a moment to look through any remaining notices - which took no time at all - before slipping his hat back on. He would go find Deputy Pentaghast and get this show on the road.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long! I got wrapped up in mt other fanfic, and also got engaged so....you know, busy all around.

Deputy Cassandra Pentaghast was exactly where Eldan had expected to find her – out running surveillance near their water source, where bandits were often caught hiding out. He clicked his heels against the side of his mount and urged him towards the water. The Hunter Shade Dracolisk had been a little present to himself after Eldan was became the sheriff, and he was very fond of the creature. It looked a little goofy, and the name “Lord Speckles,” lovingly given, was not one that struck fear into the hearts of those who heard it.

Eldan adored him anyways. He raised a hand in greeting as Cassandra pointed her own mount (a much more sensible horse) his way. “Sheriff,” she called out. “Has something happened?”

True, it was odd for him to hunt her down in this way. “Not so far,” he said. “But there will be. Nothing to worry about, we’re just offering a Governor protection on through the next town. Will you round up a couple riders so we can head out and meet her?”

Cassandra pulled up her mount near his side. “Of course. Do you have anyone in mind?”

“You know I trust you. You’ve been a deputy longer than I’ve been sheriff. Just get three or four of the trustiest.” He tipped his hat towards her. She looked much more fitting to the position than him. Cassandra rode high on her horse, sword at her hip and shield strapped to her back. Her hard jaw and the rough scar on her cheek screamed ‘authority!’ in a way Eldan thought he would never be able to achieve. “Meet me at the Hangin’ Tree at the third bell, alright?”

“As you say, Sheriff.”

She spoke with such severity that he half expected to be saluted. Eldan trusted her with his life, though, and let her go off to do her work; he would do the same.

 

* * *

 

 

When he met back with her at the Hanging Tree – yes, named so after exactly what happened there when it was needed – Cassandra was not alone. She sat on her mount, along with Krem in his dusty leathers, a dwarven military woman who was rather new to the area named Harding, and Blackwall, one of the miners. Eldan greeted each of them with a friendly smile.

“How’d she lure you out of the underground, Blackwall?” he joked. The young children in town joked that he was a spirit of the mine because he spent so much time down there.

He chuckled at that. “Caught me at the right time, I suppose. This sounded like a good enough way to spend the day. Not every day that someone travels through these parts.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Krem said, pulling the handkerchief away from his neck. But Eldan saw the way he was looking at Harding, and knew the more likely reason he had come along. He was as transparent as Eldan was with Bull. Hopefully Krem had more luck. He was bolder, brasher than Eldan – had been ever since they met as children and bonded right away.

“Let’s get going,” Eldan said, bringing himself back to the task at hand and pushing Lord Speckles around to the front. “I don’t wanna keep a lady waiting!”

Considering they hadn’t been given an exact location in Commander Rutherford’s letter, they would just ride to the west and intercept the Governor’s path. In the plains it wouldn’t be hard to do – around Haven, one could see for miles before the hills and mountains began.

The ride was pleasant, with company that Eldan enjoyed. It was nice to ride out in the open and feel as if he belonged. With his blank forehead, Eldan did not fit in with most of the Dalish clans in the area. He had been too young for the ceremonial tattoo, always distant from his culture. He wished that he had that connection, had thought more and more about seeking it out, finding if not his own tribe, another one that would be welcoming. After all, he WAS one of them. It was not his fault that he had been captured and stolen away like no more than a sack of cloth. Perhaps if he found a clan that would see him as one of them instead of an outsider…well, it was something worth looking into.

Either way, he kept an eye out for any tall sails in the distance, or the rather ungraceful calls of the halla. If they got too close to a Dalish camp they risked taking a few arrows, and that was the last thing Eldan needed. He rode up front, listening to Cassandra and Blackwall talking about some old war and Krem trying to sound cool and confident in front of Harding. Though Eldan had never wanted or sought out this position, he carried out his duty with pride, and was happy to have such worthy people out with him on such a day.

The sun was high in the sky when Harding called out to the group. “Carriage approaching!”

Their heads swiveled in the direction she was pointing, and sure enough there was a carriage-sized blob moving towards them through kicked up sand and hazy air. The flag waving was jaunty, blue and gold. With a flick of his reign and a boot to the side, Eldan steered Lord Speckles towards the carriage. That motion sent pain shooting through his left arm, but that had been happening more and more lately. A traveling surgeon had looked at it, as well as Bull’s healer Stitches and Pavus, the barber, but no one could figure a thing out about it. Eldan, not wanting to worry anyone, never mentioned the pain and always wore gloves.

By the time the carriage was slowing, the pain had subsided. Eldan slowed Lord Speckled as well, and rode up to the side of the carriage. The window opened just so as they moved along at their slow pace. There was a hood, a hint of red hair, and a smile. “You must be Sheriff Eldan Lavellan,” said a soft, song-like voice. Hardly turning, the woman addressed those in the carriage with her. “It is alright, everyone – this is the guard the commander asked for.”

Eldan swept his hat from his head. At least it didn’t get caught on his ears. “All too right, miss. My team and I are at your service.”

At this, the curtains swung open and Eldan could finally see into the carriage. Other than the hooded woman, there was Commander Rutherford, who Eldan had met once before, an elf with no hair and a staff in his grasp, and a woman with heavy black curls, prominent brows, and expensive looking clothing. From his horse, Eldan bowed his head. They would not stop here for proper introductions – getting out the carriage in this area was as good as dressing in meats and waltzing into a wolf den. Commander Rutherford raised his hand before opened the window on his side. “Sheriff. Thank you for coming all of the way out here.”

“Yes,” said the woman who could only be Governor Montilyet. Her voice was gentle and accented. She was lovely. “Thank you for this service. My name is Governor Josephine Montilyet, and I am very pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“I reckon that pleasure is all mine, Governor.” He let his hat dangle from his hand, not wanting to put it back on in the presence of such a lady.

“I have with me my associate Leliana, and a historian, Solas.” She gestured in turn to the hooded woman and the elf. Eldan couldn’t help but notice that this Solas did not have a tattoo either.

Eldan nodded to each of them. Lord Speckles moved slowly, smoothly matching the slow pace of the carriage. “Have you all been on the road long?”

“For three weeks now,” Solas said. His voice was deep and warm. “The trail has been dangerous, but we soon will reach our destination.”

“And I’ll make sure you get there safely,” Eldan promised. “Have you seen anything nearby?”

“Not yet.” Leliana pulled her hood back and looked over the sand that spread out all around them.

Governor Montilyet opened her fan and wafted a breeze over her face. “I do have reports on what we have faced on the way here. If you like you may read them while we rest the horses in Haven.”

“Much obliged. Now why don’t you close up them windows so we can pick up speed? We don’t want to be out here when the sun sets.” Only when the windows were closed again did Eldan place his hat back on his head and kick up speed.

 

* * *

 

 

The trip back seemed to be much shorter. Eldan was pleased to be able to show off Haven to some visitors. It was not very often that people came through, and never anyone like a Governor. This would be a nice memory for Governor Montilyet, and perhaps she would speak well of them in Val Royeaux. The idea pleased him.

Which was why a long whistled call and cloud of dust made him spit out an angry, “Fenedhis!”

A window on the carriage flew open; Commander Rutherford stuck his head out. “What is that out there?”

“Bandits!” called Deputy Pentaghast.

Because of course, that’s what it was. Eldan rolled his shoulders. “Deputy, Krem - ride out with me! Harding and Blackwall, wait close to the carriage!”

He rode off, knowing that he didn’t need to wait and see if his orders would be carried out. The sound of hooves came from behind Eldan as he let go of the reins. His bond with Lord Speckles was enough that he did not have to even direct the dracolisk with anything other than his feet. That left him free to pull something that he found often put the fear of death in any outlaws who saw it - extending his knees and straightening up until he was standing straight in the saddle, calves tight against his mount’s sides. He swung his axe from his back as smoothly as possible and held it on his shoulder as Lord Speckles kicked up dust around them. Now, Eldan was small and chubby, but anyone would look threatening standing astride a dracolisk with an axe in the air. His hand tingled a bit, but no one needed to know that.

The first hit was not his, however. When the bandits - looked to be 11 or so in number - were almost on them, a fire burst out around the bandits. Eldan lowered himself back into his saddle and turned to see the elf, Solas, on one knee on top of the carriage as it raced along. He twirled his staff above him and sent out another blast of magic.

Eldan turned back around and pushed Lord Speckles forward. He couldn’t help it - this was what he had been waiting for. Months of boredom finally relieved! Eldan threw back his head and howled as he delved into battle.

His axe nearly sung to him as he took the first swing into the chest of a bandit. Up close, that was clearly what they were with mismatched armor, old saddles, and tired mounts. As a rule, Eldan tried to avoid hurting any mounts during a brawl. It was just a matter of honor to him. The people ON the mount, however, were fair game. He noted that Cassandra was taking on a man controlling a small cart that was piled high. Good woman - that’s what these bandits would want to protect.

He knew that they should capture one of these people, that it would be for the best. But when one of them buried a dagger in his left shoulder, Eldan knew that wasn’t likely to happen. Pain radiated from the wound, but he would ignore it. When he got hurt, he became enraged. The moment someone drew his blood, Eldan filled with rage that could only be satiated by bloodshed of his own.

So when last of the bandits fell, the entire area was bloodstained and tingling with magic. At some point, Commander Rutherford had left the now stopped carriage and Solas had made it to the ground. Eldan was still mounted, axe dangling from his right hand and dagger almost pushed out of his left shoulder. His chest was heaving, straining against the tight bindings after the effort of the fight. He looked over to Commander Rutherford. “Is the Governor alright?”

“I am,” Governor Montilyet called out herself, leaning out of the carriage. “Is anyone hurt?”

Eldan looked around at his crew, hoe looked tired but mostly okay. “A few cuts and scrapes but we’re fine!”

“Better than fine!” Krem called out. He was on the ground, looking over the corpses. “One of these guys is alive, Sheriff! Wanna bring him in?”

Oh. Not corpses, then. Eldan grinned through the blood on his face. “Tie him up and toss him on that cart! Bring it all in!

“Let’s get the Governor to Haven before any more of these bastards show up!”


End file.
